


Beach Bash

by AgentCalifornia (Drake)



Series: Project Freelancer Before 47 States Died [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, also Agent Oregon gets an honorable mention, hello meet my freelancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:43:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2229414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drake/pseuds/AgentCalifornia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent California wants to kick back post-mission and relax, but Carolina isn't so happy with the idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beach Bash

**Author's Note:**

> You can blame AgentOregon for the fact that I now have a freelancer OC, but I hope you guys like her!

The assassination went off without a hitch. Agent California's experimental camouflage armor mod, combined with her favorite weapon of choice - empty syringes - meant that it was ridiculously easy to sneak into the office building, pretend to be a hapless secretary, close the door and leave as said secretary, and then crawl under the boss's desk and stab his toe with the empty syringe, filling his blood with air. He'd have a heart attack shortly after she left the building, and she could call the mission complete.

Except for one thing - this planet was galaxy-renowned for its beaches and surfing. There was no way she could turn it down. She sent a message to Command, stating that the mission was proving more difficult than expected and that she would go radio silent. The expected response appeared on her HUD: **Do you need backup? Agent Carolina is on deck for your extraction.** California waved it off, and sent back _Don't sweat it. I'll call for help if I need it._ She pulled off her helmet, shaking out her ginger hair and resting the helmet on her hip. Just as the screen went dark, another message flashed on the screen, but California ignored it and stretched, heading for the beach.

Not even twenty minutes later, Carolina finds her at the beach asking a local where she could find a surfboard, her armor draped around her waist and camouflaged as a wetsuit, her helmet taking on the appearance of a beach ball. It would probably be a hilarious ensemble if she put it together, and she made a note to show it to Agent Oregon later.

"Cal!" Carolina shouts, looking extremely pissed even with her helmet on - mainly in the way her shoulders were tensed and she walked like she was about to pounce. On California, probably. "What the hell is this?" she asked, completely ignoring the local that California had been speaking with. He slowly backed away, looking between the two women as if they would bite him.

"What? Target's bought the farm." California's voice was pitched high and innocent, and she shrugged.

"So why. Aren't you. Back on the ship." Carolina's growling now, and California would regret her decision if the waves didn't look so inviting.

"Man Carolina, you know this planet's famous for the surf! I wanted to go out for a little bit, get a tan, you know. Usual post-mission stuff."

"So why didn't you call the mission complete and then ask for leave?" Carolina's still tense, and Cal realizes that this is because they thought something had happened. A simple mission shouldn't have required radio silence for twenty minutes.

"Aw, you thought I was dying." Cal smiles, because she's flattered, really.

"What else would I think when your armor sent an alert to Command that it was being removed from your body while on a mission?!" Carolina snaps, and huh, Cal hadn't thought of that. She shrugs, and freezes halfway through the motion as a weight slams into her back and the point of a knife slams through her and out to the front. As one, the two agents look down  at the blade.

"Well, guess I should have seen that one cominngh," she groans as the attacker twists the blade, and she steps forward despite the blinding pain and lashes out with a backwards kick, hitting something solid. In the instant that she and the attacker separate, Carolina's speed mod is on and she becomes a blur in her dash to the attacker. He's pinned a second later, combat knife on his throat, and Cal sees it's the local who was about to help her find a surfboard.

"UNSC scum, you think you can waltz onto any planet and do what you want?" He's cursing them out, Carolina looks livid, the rest of the locals are starting to approach, and Cal sees the weapons they had secreted away on their person coming out. She slides her under-armor on, pulls the plates into place and clicks the helmet on. The suit comes to life, in that it starts spraying biofoam into her. Which is good enough, because Cal has two semi-auto machine guns in her hands, aimed in a roving circle around her at the now-angered locals who watched them like hornets who'd had their hive destroyed.

Carolina takes the knife and smacks him with the blunt end, and Cal sends out a silent text, asking for extraction. **Affirmative,** flashes in the corner of her screen, and she's watching Carolina's back for any locals that decide to step out of line.

"Let's find some other beach, hm Carolina? You could use the tan," she manages despite the fire in her gut, and Carolina pulls her pistols off the mag-strips on her thighs.

"I swear, you couldn't just leave well enough alone, could you, Cal?" California shrugged, and with their backs pressed to each other, they began to move to the edges of the circle, leaving the bruised local on the ground. He sat up, spat in the sand, and stared at them with a vicious anger. Cal swallowed thickly, swaggering almost overconfidently to hide the limp and slouch that she really felt like carrying.

Of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. The local on the ground hissed "Get 'em," and was dead a moment later, one of Carolina's pistols smoking. The circle exploded and California and Carolina sprang apart, mowing down locals left and right, ignoring bullet pings off of the sides of their armor, until they heard their drop-ship shooting through the sky.

"California, you take the ship when it slows down and spins, I'll catch up."

Cal hated the orders, but barked a quick "Yes boss," keeping an eye both on the approaching ship and the assailants around her. She wouldn't have left a Freelancer behind, but she trusted Carolina to keep her word, and wouldn't disobey her in a firefight anyway. Something slashed at her shoulder as she glanced to the ship, and a quick twist away barely let her keep her arm. The under-armor was torn, but she ignored it in favor of finding a quick path out of the firefight, leaping onto a falling beach-bum and onto the head of the next one, jumping high into the air and barely grabbing onto the lip of the drop-ship's open hangar.

She hauled herself in, glanced down and watched as Carolina kicked up the speed, broke through the mob, and kicked herself into the air, landing with a perfect slide into the ship as the doors closed. Cal watched, shaking her head in constant awe at the other Freelancer, and slumped against the floor.

"Strap in, ladies, we're taking the short way up." That was the pilot crackling over their headsets, and California couldn't quite muster the energy to move into a seat. Carolina sighed and hauled her into a chair, watching as it locked her in and moving to sit across from her.

"For the record, that was your fault, boss. They had no idea who I was while I had that camo engaged."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Cal."

**Author's Note:**

> I felt sick and miserable so I decided to write Cal feeling not so good too. Whoops


End file.
